Turmoil
by KeDe
Summary: These are concluding scenes to Burn Card. In that episode, Detective Ed Green's troubled past forces him to take a leave of absence without pay. We're not sure if this will be permanent. New chapters added!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Lieutenant Anita Van Buren slowly followed Detective Ed Green out of her office. She stopped at her door and watched as he walked towards the elevator for what might just be the last time. Poor Ed truly did have the weight of the world on his shoulders and he walked like it. Not his usual confident strut but instead the faltering steps of a dejected man.

Van Buren wanted to do something, to say something, but she could not think of anything that made sense or that would reverse the recent events in Ed's life. He had been hiding a gambling addiction, and had shot and killed a hustler, and had lied to her and to Internal Affairs (IA). What in the world would ever make any of that right?

How could she not have known he had a gambling problem? Hell, she was the one with the problem. As his supervisor, she should have known he was troubled and she should have helped him. Then future of a good cop, a good man, would not be on the line.

***

The distance from Van Buren's office to the elevator seemed like ten miles to Ed. Although it felt strange how the squad room was deserted, Ed was glad he didn't have to talk to anyone and suffer through the awkwardness. Surely folks knew he would be in this morning, probably for the last time. Either they decided to make themselves scarce out of respect for him or out of disgust. Probably the latter, Ed thought. No matter what his reason for the gambling or for shooting that hustler, he would always somehow be tainted.

Ed stepped inside the empty elevator and reached back to press the down button. He did not turn around because he did not want to face Van Buren who he knew was still watching. Ed closed his eyes, took a deep breath, exhaled, and let the doors close behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

All day Van Buren was snappish to anyone who dared cross her threshold. And not many did. Ed was a damn good detective and in their own way his colleagues were grieving for him and his career almost as if, like Lennie, he had died.

Van Buren knew that Ed had taken Lennie's death hard. She had often asked Ed how he was doing and had even encouraged him to seek counseling. But it obviously hadn't been enough. Ed was the type of person to say he was doing fine and all the time be torn up inside.

Van Buren knew why she had kept her distance. They were both black and she couldn't risk being accused of favoritism. She had worked too long and too hard to let that happen. Ed surely understood her dilemma.

Van Buren couldn't help but wonder how many of her other detectives were harboring life-changing secrets. They put their lives on the line everyday for slave wages. Sooner or later the idea of helping to put the bad guys behind bars grew thin and that carrot dangling at the end of the tunnel, their pension, grew foggy under the constant stress and pressures of life in general and the job in particular. Van Buren was well aware of this just as she was well aware that she could not afford to lose another detective like she would no doubt lose Ed. She also could not afford another IA investigation of another of her detectives. Sooner or later IA might conclude that she didn't have what it takes to clamp down on her people to keep them on the straight and narrow.

Van Buren had never been one to seek advice from others, even her superiors. She had always thought that doing so would make her look weak and unsure of herself. Not a winning combination in the male-dominated police force. She had to think this all through very carefully. She needed to figure out on her own what to do.

***

After he left Van Buren's office, Ed went home. He now sat alone in his apartment finishing off a bottle of Scotch Lennie had given him for Christmas two years ago. Since Lennie's death, Ed had tried not to think about him. He hadn't realized until Lennie had died how much he had come to count on Lennie's dry wit, steady hand, and vast knowledge. Ed had grown to love and respect that man more than any man he had ever known, including his own father.

Ed downed the last of the Scotch. His throat was on fire. He took a deep breath then exhaled to cool down. He fell back on the sofa and stretched out his arms and legs in supplication.

For the next two hours Ed dozed off and on. His mouth was now dry but he couldn't rouse himself enough to get up and get a glass of water.

He finally pulled himself up to a sitting position. He expected his head to be cloudy but it was amazingly clear. He had never been much of a drinker and the Scotch from Lennie had been more of a gag than a gift. "For the guy who has everything," Lennie had teased. Lennie should see him now, Ed thought. From having everything, at least according to Lennie, to having nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

For the third time in the last half hour, Van Buren replaced the phone receiver without placing a call. Ed had left her office over six hours ago, and since then she had been pretty much useless. Especially since she had reached the conclusion that she had failed him. She had never seen Ed so down as when he left earlier today. He had had more vigor in the days after Lennie died than he had today. Van Buren knew it was because after Lennie died Ed had stayed busy by working double shifts and sleeping a little on the side. She guessed somewhere in between he made his way to the gambling dens. Now, he didn't have the work to keep him focused. Now he behaved like a man without a future, and thus, a man without hope.

Van Buren had to admit she was worried about him. He wouldn't be the first disgraced cop to find his salvation by putting a gun in his mouth and pulling the trigger. Just because she had confiscated the weapons she was required to take from him didn't mean he didn't have another one.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Ed decided to take the rest of the evening to feel sorry for himself. Admittedly, he'd gotten himself into this mess by being stupid. But he had since tried to make things right. Yes, he had become a gambling addict, but that was because he was trying to cope with Lennie's death. Yes, he had gotten April involved in gambling, but hadn't he tried to get her out of it? Yes, he had shot Whitby, but he had done it to keep Whitby from shooting April. Because of all this, Ed had shamed himself with his colleagues. He had shamed the badge and thus didn't deserve the honor of wearing it. Hadn't he earned the right to indulge in a little self pity?

He had given over ten years of his life to being one of New York's finest, and today he had basically limped out of the squad room with his tail between his legs. Another ten years and he could have gotten a full pension. Yeah, right. Like that was gonna happen. With all the death, blood, gore, distraught families, wayward kids, stinking crooks, corpses and murderers, Ed knew he probably wouldn't have lasted another ten months, let alone ten years. Cyrus was okay as a partner, but he wasn't Lennie. Yeah, it was best for him to get out now. He just wished he had done it under less humiliating circumstances.

The buzzing of his cellphone on his hip jolted Ed out of his melancholy. He reached for the phone and pressed the off button without even checking to see who was calling.

Ed kicked off his shoes and tossed his socks in the direction of the chair where he had dumped his blazer. His hat and gloves were strewn across the floor. He had even let his coat fall to the floor. His normally immaculate living room was decidedly in disarray. To top that off, the box that contained the personal contents of his desk at work stared at him accusingly from the coffee table.

He poured the remaining Scotch into his glass and shook the bottle over the glass trying to drain every last drop. He swallowed a gulp and coughed to catch is breath. Ed realized he was developing a taste for this Scotch and would need to go out for another bottle. Hell, wait. No he wouldn't. This was New York where he could have anything delivered at any time of the day or night.

Ed giggled as he stumbled over to his house phone. He got the number for the liquor store down the street and requested they deliver a bottle of Scotch to his apartment.

"Buy two get another at half price," the guy told him.

"Cool!" Ed said, fumbling in his wallet for his credit card. After completing the transaction, he made his way back to the sofa and plopped down. Three bottles. That should hold him for a while. The more he thought on what he had done, the more he realized he would need the fortification to make it from one day to the next.

No matter how he tried to spin it, there was simply no justification in the world for getting involved in gambling. Sooner rather than later he should have realized he was in trouble and fast reaching the point where he couldn't control himself. How stupid can a person be? And what about then taking April along for the ride where she inevitably got to the point she couldn't control herself? She had even allowed herself to be pimped out to Whitby's friends. A fine sister like that. What a shame. Ed knew he had an opportunity to salvage something of his life but what was she going to do? Chances were, she'd be brought up on charges of embezzlement. She didn't have the money to repay what she had taken. Most likely she'd do some time. What would happen to her kid?

Ed buried his face in his hands. What a fricking mess! And it was all his fault. For the second time since he had gotten home, Ed stretched out on his sofa and dozed.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The incessant pinging of the doorbell awoke Ed from his slumber. At first he was disoriented, unsure of the time. The pinging continued, giving him a fricking headache. Then he remembered the Scotch delivery. Ping! He'd always hated the sissified sound that thing made. A ping! Who the hell would put a ping in a New York apartment?

Ed pulled himself up from the sofa and staggered to the intercom, knocking over a chair. He hit the buzzer to release the downstairs lock. He now had to take a leak in the worse kind of way. Since he was in a fifth floor walk-up, if he hurried, he could make it back to the door before the delivery guy knocked. He snickered at the idea of leaving the door unlocked. He was drunk, but not that drunk.

Ed stumbled to the bathroom, unzipping along the way. When he was done, he flushed and washed his hands. He took a quick moment to glance at himself in the mirror. Damn! He looked a mess! His eyes were bloodshot and he had a crusty film on the side of his mouth. His shirt, normally so clean and crisp, was now wrinkled and slightly sour. Ed wanted to at least wash his face but he didn't have time. Besides, he didn't have to impress the barely minimum-wage delivery guy.

As best he could on wobbly legs, Ed hurried back to the door. He threw the door open and to his horror stood Lieutenant Anita Van Buren. Although she tried to mask it, the look on her face at the sight of him told him she was shocked at his appearance.

"Hey, Lieu," Ed said. The alcohol high he had felt prior to opening the door was now gone, replaced by the urge to retch it all up.

"May I come in?"

Ed hesitated for a moment, but he knew Lieu. She wasn't going to just go away. "This is not a good time."

"Oh, I beg to differ," she said, pushing past him and into the apartment.

Ed looked towards the stairs for the delivery guy, but all the time wishing he wouldn't show up anytime soon. He looked like crap and probably reeked of alcohol. He didn't want to give Lieu further reason to pass negative judgment on him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Ed slowly closed the door and turned to face Lieutenant Van Buren. Her back was to him but he could tell that she disapproved of the empty Scotch bottle and messy room.

"I tried calling you," she said, turning to face him.

Ed's unkempt appearance was making him self conscious. The churning in his gut convinced him to excuse himself. "Excuse me, Lieutenant."

Ed left her standing in the middle of his living room as he went into the bathroom and closed the door. The sour liquid had filled his mouth before he could reach the toilet. He heaved into the toilet for a good thirty seconds until finally he had the feeling it was all gone. He flushed and opened the small window to let in some fresh air just in case Lieu needed to use the bathroom. No use disgusting her even further. He should have known she'd come by and he should have been prepared for the visit, instead of looking like a drunken frat boy who couldn't hold his liquor and keep his place or himself clean.

Ed quickly washed his face, rinsed his mouth with mouthwash, and discarded the shirt he was wearing into the hamper. He put on a clean shirt he had hanging on the back of the bathroom door.

When Ed went back into the living room Van Buren was still standing where he had left her. If she noticed the clean shirt and washed face she didn't mention it.

Ed motioned to an empty chair. "Have a seat."

Van Buren chuckled as she sat down.

"The place looked fine when I first got home," Ed explained as he righted the toppled chair and grabbed his shoes, socks and blazer and quickly put them in the bedroom and returned to the living room. He decided against taking more of Van Buren's time and left the Scotch bottle on the table. Instead he pointed to it and said, "And that bottle was almost full. And, you might as well know, I got a few more bottles being delivered."

"So you think drinking will solve your problems?"

"No, but it might help me to forget them for a while."

"I'm not here to be your mother."

"Then don't be," Ed pleaded.

Van Buren nodded in consent. "Since you call yourself resigning from the force, I'm not here as your supervisor. I'm here as your friend, Ed. I think you need a friend, don't you?"

Ed didn't quite know how to respond to that. "I guess I haven't really thought about it, Lieu."

"What do you plan to do?"

"Well, tonight, and tomorrow, and possibly the next day, I had planned on drinking myself into a stupor."

"Glad I interrupted that activity," Van Buren said.

Ed couldn't help but laugh.

"It's obvious you're not a drinker, Ed--"

"You heard?" Ed asked, referring to his retching in the bathroom.

"I heard," she said. "You're not a drinker, so don't make yourself one."

"Thanks, mom."

"I'm serious, Ed. Don't take the path Lennie took when things got rough."

That he might be doing just that had not occurred to Ed. "I'm sorry for being a smartass, Lieu. You're right."

Just then, Ping!

"My door," Ed explained, getting up to answer the door. "Excuse me."

On his way to the door, Ed picked up his hat, gloves, and coat. He stuffed the hat and gloves in the pockets of the coat then hung it on the coat rack. He then pressed the buzzer to release the door. He did not want to see another bottle of Scotch. Much less three bottles. Maybe he'd set them around the apartment where he'd be forced to look at them as penance for his foolish ways. He opened the door before the delivery guy knocked. Ed reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty. Normally he wouldn't have been such a generous tipper, but what the hell? Penance wasn't cheap. He closed the door and immediately put the bottles in the closet where he planned to leave them for a good, long while.

"Can I get you some coffee, Lieu?

"Sure."

"Are you saying yes 'cause you think I need some?" Ed asked as he retrieved the empty Scotch bottle and glass from the coffee table.

"Don't you?"

Ed chuckled. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."

*******

While Ed was in the kitchen Van Buren took the opportunity to survey the room. Ed had good taste. The window treatments complimented very nicely the eggshell blue walls. The furniture was high quality and quite comfortable. She couldn't help but wonder if it were all financed with proceeds from his gambling. She didn't want to think the worst of Ed but what she had learned about him over the last few days left her no choice. Nevertheless, he had always been one of her favorite people and therefore she was determined to help him whether he liked it or not. She had already failed him once, she wasn't about to let that happen again.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Ed returned to the living room with coffee in fine cups on a sterling silver serving tray.

Van Buren couldn't help herself: "No need to break out the nice stuff for me, Ed."

Ed laughed as he poured their coffee. "Don't say break in the vicinity of my Grandma's fine china. She gave it and the silver pieces to me when I moved to New York. Thought it might help me to land a good wife."

"Or a gold digger," Van Buren said as she sipped her coffee. It was delicious, so unlike that sludge they were all used to drinking at work.

Ed took his own cup and sat back on the sofa across from her. "I don't get much company, Lieu."

"Or bring many people here?" she probed.

"Why you all up in a brother's business?" he joked.

"Just making conversation."

Ed regarded her for a moment. "I ain't never known you to _just make conversation_. What's up, Lieu? You here to deliver the final hatchet from IA?"

"You ever known me to be somebody's delivery person?"

"No," Ed admitted. "If you're here to talk about that whole gambling business, I'd rather not. I realize I made some bad choices and I need to figure out how to put things back in order-- "

"That's why you shouldn't have just walked out on the job, Ed. At least you'd have a paycheck coming in. What are you going to do for money?"

"I'm not going to gamble, if that's what you're thinking."

"I wasn't thinking that. I was wondering if along with the silver and china if your Grandma left you a pile of dough to live on."

"No."

"Then I repeat: What are you going to do for money?"

"I don't know. I got some savings. I'll live on that for a while."

"Ed, why don't you take a few days off then come back to work? The structure of a job is good for us."

"Not that job. As a matter of fact, I had been thinking on how glad I am to be out of there. I just can't go on doing that kind of work. Maybe I'll move to L.A., see what's out there."

"You got the looks, you thinking about getting an acting gig?"

Ed laughed. "You just full of jokes. What you know about acting gigs?"

"You'd be surprised at what I know."

"Uh, hunh," he said as he refilled their cups.

"What's up with that young lady you put your career on the line for?"

"April. April Lannen. I think we both intended on dating, at least I did, but the gambling took over. It got in the way. Even as I wiggled my way out, she got in even deeper. She owed Whitby money and repaid him by hooking for him."

"That's not somebody you take home to meet Grandma. "

"April's not a bad person, Lieu. She, like me, just got jammed up. She tried to get out, especially after she got pregnant, but Whitby didn't want to let her go. You know how that goes. Even after she got a good job he was after her. She finally embezzled money to pay him back."

"When did you find this out?"

"Just the other day when I went to see her. Don't you see, Lieu? I got a lot of shit with me. I don't deserve to wear the badge."

"Is her baby yours?"

"No!"

"I'm just saying, you better be absolutely sure, because if she goes to jail, Child Services will take the child and no telling who the poor thing will end up with."

"It's not mine, Lieu. April and I never even slept together."

Surprise registered on Van Buren's face.

"Can you believe it, Lieu? All this trouble and I never even got laid." Ed immediately regretted being so crass. "Sorry, Lieutenant."

Van Buren smiled and waved it off. She might be older than Ed but that didn't make her a prude.

"I need to do something to help April, Lieu."

"It seems to me you have tried," Van Buren said as she sipped her coffee. "Some folks just can't be helped."


End file.
